Shuffle
by ArtsyChick
Summary: A series of song-inspired drabbles following the characters' lives before and after Sherlock and John met one January day. Varying styles, all characters, spoilers for everything.
1. Track 1

**A/N: **I read about this 'game' on another story called _Snapshots of Sherlock _by Pickwick12. You put your music player on shuffle, pick a fandom, then write a drabble (for me, 100-110 words) about it.

These were inspired by _Snapshots of Sherlock _and another fantastic story called _Ten Thousand Times of Living _by Watchermine. I tried to write about all the main characters and there are **spoilers**, especially for Season 2 starting in chapter 2. Some are better than others, and some days were more productive than others.

Finally, these are organized by the date I wrote them and each drabble will have the song title, artist, recording time, and whose POV it's from. Before my note becomes longer than the actual stories... Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>January 5, 2012<strong>

**_When the Lights Go Down _by Faith Hill, 4:05 **(Sherlock)

He traces his initials in the thick layer of dust covering the small, slender box. His arm aches just looking at it. He knows it would be ridiculously easy to contact his old dealer, gather the funds, then lie on the couch and feel the cocaine thrumming out to his fingertips. But he won't. Because John wouldn't like it.

He shouldn't care what John thinks, he knows that, but for some inexplicable, totally unexplainable reason, he does. Perhaps with the cocaine he could figure it out, but then he would disappoint John. And he can't bear to see the inevitable hurt that would bloom in his understanding eyes.

:o:o:o:

**_If We Were a Movie _by Hannah Montana, 2:58 **(John)

Sometimes, John feels like he's living on a film screen. Consulting detectives—which still sounds like a made-up profession—murderous cabbies, Chinese smugglers, psychopaths and sociopaths and completely wrong paths. He's not really sure how Sherlock fits into the script, because he's brilliant and insane and heroic, even though he claims he's not. And he's totally unsure of how he himself fits into the picture, because there's nothing special about him. Sherlock may not agree (always), but he doesn't really mind. He keeps Sherlock sane and as close to normal as that man will ever be, and that's a good enough role for him.

:o:o:o:


	2. Track 2

**January 6, 2012**

**_I'm With You _by Avril Lavigne, 3:43 **(Sherlock)

For as long as he could remember, Sherlock always preferred his own company over that of others. He was perfectly content in solitude and echoing silences and his remarks never receiving replies. He didn't need anyone and he was extremely proud of the fact.

But that was before Mike introduced him to the short, recalcitrant army doctor with the psychosomatic limp and alcoholic sister. And before Sherlock could stomp his feet and angrily protest that he's _just_ _fine _alone, he asked this perfectly average, boring doctor to come to a crime scene with him. Now, even if it's just in his head, John always answers.

:o:o:o:

**_According to You _by Orianthi, 3:19 **(Molly)

It used to torment Molly when she was lying in bed, wondering what she had said or done wrong to make Sherlock completely ignore her existence. That was what the lipstick and coffee and new part in her hair were for. She had always been told she was transparent, so why did Sherlock have to think she was offering to _make _him coffee instead of going on a date?

Now Jim holds her hand and nuzzles her neck and tells her she smells nice, even though she knows she smells like formaldehyde and rubbing alcohol. So there. Take that, Sherlock.

:o:o:o:

**_White Horse _by Taylor Swift, 3:55 **(Molly)

_Stupid girl, _Molly thought as the tears welled in her eyes. _Stupid, _stupid_ girl. _

She had tried. She had tried _so _hard this time, with the padded bra and black dress, the glittering heels and magazine-advised make-up. _Red lipstick is sexy,_ they assured her. _He won't be able to resist. _

But he did. And he humiliated her before smashing her heart.

For what it was worth, Sherlock _did_ look sorry after he opened her card. He looked down, apologized, and asked for her forgiveness. Then he did something completely unexpected.

Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek. "Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper."

:o:o:o:


	3. Track 3

**January 7, 2012**

**_Never Knew I Needed _by Ne-Yo, 3:36 **(Sherlock)

"So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within that travel time?" He holds his phone up for Lestrade and Dr. Watson to see the weather report and map he'd downloaded. "Cardiff."

"Fantastic!" Dr. Watson mutters in complete and utter amazement.

Sherlock steps closer, whispers, "You know you do that out loud?"

Dr. Watson—John, he reminds himself—ducks his head in embarrassment. "You're right, I'll shut up."

For a moment, Sherlock is tripped up by this exchange. Instead of agreeing that yes he _should_ shut up, he murmurs, "No, it's… fine."

He's never had an admirer before.

:o:o:o:


	4. Track 4

**January 8, 2012**

**_Starting Line _by Northern Way, 3:01 **(Irene)

He never replies. She texts him constantly, flirts outrageously, but her phone never chimes back. She wonders what his expression was, when he first heard the personalized tone she set for him. Probably confused. He looks so sexy when he's confused.

But tonight is different than the others, when she would write silly things like _You look sexy on CrimeWatch _and _I like your funny hat. _Tonight, there are tears in her eyes and she misses him more than usual. She fires off a quick text and hopes, more than ever, that he'll reply.

_I'm sad tonight. Let's have dinner._

He doesn't.

:o:o:o:

**_All the Wasted Time _from the musical _Parade, _7:26 **(Mycroft)

Chest slowly rises, falls. Heart monitor beeps quietly, patiently, incessantly. Worry etches wrinkles across his forehead.

_Inky curls spring around large green eyes. Sherlock offers his brother a handful of black-eyed Susans and grins._

Mycroft sits by his little brother's bedside, staring hard at his middle in order to avoid his face.

_He's missing teeth and the flowers are crumpled, but Mycroft loves them all the same. _

Rests a hand amidst Sherlock's soft, tousled hair. Closes his eyes, but the tears escape anyway, and Mycroft irrationally thinks he can smell the flowers and wishes his little brother would come home.

:o:o:o:

**_Way Away _by Yellowcard, 3:22 **(Sherlock)

As the smoke curls away from his lips, Sherlock leans over the windowsill and glances upward. He knows little about the stars except for a handful of constellations and a few Greek legends, because Ella liked them.

He takes another draw from his cigarette, spies Cassiopeia in her inverted throne, Orion's thrice-studded belt, the Big Dipper. Silly things, but Ella thought they were pretty.

Stupid Ella. Why did she have to waste her time on him? She was sweet, and endearing. She stayed, even when he was horrid. But she's gone now, and he's alone.

Sherlock stubs out his cigarette and grabs the needle. Stupid Ella.

:o:o:o:

**_No One _by Aly and AJ, 2:58 **(Sherlock and John)

They are two sides of the same coin. They complete each other in a strange and incomprehensible way when viewed through the eyes of outsiders.

Sherlock disliked conventionalities imposed on his character. They insisted, so he rebelled. Never William, always Sherlock.

John didn't know _who_ he was supposed to be when he returned to England. Not a war hero, not a broken soldier. Just a man coming home. Just… John.

They both maneuvered through the faceless throngs of London, lost, and somehow found his missing half. They move so effortlessly together, it's like they've never known life without the other.

:o:o:o:

**_Miss Me _by Andy Grammer, 3:42 **(Sherlock)

Sherlock could remember the exact day he stopped crossing out calendar squares in that childish countdown. It started with a phone call.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to reschedule," Mycroft said, his voice tinny and far away.

"What about London?" he asked, temper flaring. "You promised."

"Well, sometimes promises must be broken." He sighed, a static burst. "Please try to understand, Sherlock."

Slamming the phone to the cradle without a goodbye, Sherlock ran upstairs and locked himself in his room. Tracing a thin, delicate line across his wrist, he reveled in the pain and disappointment and hatred, and hoped Mycroft could feel it too.

:o:o:o:

**_Destination Anywhere _by Sugarcult, 3:52 **(John)

John remembered the first time Harry stumbled down the hallway, giggling to herself as she slapped the wall in search of a light switch. He spent the night holding back her bouncy blonde curls as she clutched the cool porcelain and begged him not to tell. It was a one-time thing, she promised.

But she lied. Soon it seemed like the only time he saw his sister was when he was holding her hair and trying not to retch himself. And he hated it.

The recruiter was friendly. He promised exotic locales: destination, anywhere. John signed up immediately, only to find out he lied too.

:o:o:o:

**_Perfect _by Simple Plan, 4:40 **(Lestrade)

Lestrade often wondered, when they first met, if Sherlock Holmes had a big stick rammed up his arse. He wasn't nice. And he was a bloody perfectionist. A reasonable assessment, he thought.

Sherlock saves a family being held hostage, and it strikes a particular chord because Lestrade hates seeing kids hurt. So when he drives Sherlock home that night, he tells him so.

"I'm proud of you, Sherlock," he says. "Good job today."

Sherlock looks down, doesn't say anything for a minute. "Thank you," he mutters, and gets out. Lestrade watches him go, and quickly revises his opinion when he sees him rubbing his eyes.

:o:o:o:

**_Happy _by Never Shout Never, 2:36 **(Sherlock)

What was so special about John Hamish Watson? Sherlock had been endeavoring to find out since the moment he asked the unassuming doctor to join him at a crime scene.

He had uses, obviously. As a doctor, he could enlighten Sherlock on a variety of medical issues he knew nothing about. And he was a crack shot, with nerves of steel. _Loads_ of potential there.

And… John stayed. He was sure everyone had already warned him away three times over from Sherlock Holmes, the "freak." Yet he stayed. Because… Sherlock didn't know.

_And_ he makes a great pot of tea.

:o:o:o:

**_Love Just Is _by Hilary Duff, 4:02 **(Irene)

"Why?" he asked breathlessly, grabbing her hand and dragging her away from the center.

"Shouldn't I be asking that?" she said, helping him tip a heavily laden shelf to block their route. "You _are _here rescuing me, after all."

Even with only the back of his head, she knew he rolled his eyes. "I don't understand… why you persist in this… romantic delusion."

"Meaning?"

"Why do you _love_ me?" He led her down an alley and they crouched behind a cart. During the pause she yanked down his veil, grabbed his cheeks, and kissed him.

"Love just _is_, Sherlock," she whispered. "Stop questioning it."

:o:o:o:

**_Hero _by Nickelback, 3:10 **(Sherlock and John)

Sherlock saved John, he knew that. If he hadn't met that mad consulting detective, he'd still be living in a crummy hotel, denying that he missed combat. His leg would throb and his hand would shake and he'd keep glancing at his gun, missing the rush. Sherlock _saved _John. He knew that.

:o:

Sherlock did not believe in heroes. They were ugly little creations designed by simpletons who were too lazy to change the world they despised so much. They were for children, to charm them to sleep. But when Sherlock met John, he scrutinized him and eventually revised his opinion: people like John were obviously their inspiration.

:o:o:o:

**_It Only Hurts When I'm Breathing _by Shania Twain, 3:20 **(Molly)

Jim had been a hard blow to recover from. How could she have been so _stupid, _falling for a raging psychopath who tried to blow up the love of her life?

Well, precisely because said love-of-her-life drove her mad and she'd hoped Jim would make him jealous. He didn't. And then Jim was gay. Kind of. And tried to kill Sherlock and his nice friend.

Bollocks.

Molly tried to put the whole affair behind her. Easier said than done, particularly because Sherlock was still a consulting detective and needed the morgue sometimes. At least she stopped giggling like a fool around him. Most days.

:o:o:o:


	5. Track 5

**January 9, 2012**

**_I Wanna Be Like You _by Smash Mouth, 3:17 **(Moriarty)

They were two sides of the same coin, not on opposite sides of the spectrum as the doctor liked to think. Really, the only difference between the two men was that Sherlock Holmes extinguished crime and Jim Moriarty ignited it.

Jim didn't have a heart. Did Sherlock? He claimed not to, but the way he looked at the silly doctor, just that slight flicker of the eyes… _Liar. _

Stupid (albeit sexy) Sherlock. He would like him, Jim was sure, if he could only convince him to switch sides. They would be great friends, he knew. Together, they could watch the world burn.

:o:o:o:


	6. Track 6

**January 11, 2012**

**_Beulah, Good Night _by John R. Erickson, 2:37 **(Sherlock)

Sherlock drifted in and out of consciousness all night. He couldn't see, couldn't speak, couldn't move. He tried sitting up at one point, only to collapse piteously on his back again. _Damn her. _Somehow he wound up in his bed twisted up in the sheets, trapped in a homemade straitjacket.

Then _she _appeared, but her face was blurred, her voice soft… it felt like a dream. _I'm just returning your coat, _she whispered. And when he woke, tripped over his own feet so John had to haul him up, he saw it there.

His coat. Hanging on the hook. Just like she said.

:o:o:o:

**_Never Had a Dream Come True _by S Club 7, 4:01 **(Everyone)

For a man who loathed people, a lot of them loved Sherlock.

Mycroft, because he was his precious little brother and he worried about him. Constantly.

Mrs. Hudson, because she knew he was a charming, chivalrous boy inside and (mostly) out.

Lestrade, because he could see the spark of goodness hiding beneath the thick veneer of brooding brilliance.

Molly, because he made her feel useful and didn't mind her job like most men, and because he could be really sweet when he tried.

John, because he was everything he wasn't, and because—even surrounded by people—Sherlock still felt alone.

:o:o:o:

**_Hotaru no Hikari _by Ikimono-gakari, 4:47 **(Mycroft)

Sherlock squinted at the jam jar, the greenish glow highlighting his features, and Mycroft could tell he was tempted to shake it.

"Why do they glow like that?" he asked, pressing his nose to the glass.

"They produce a special compound called luciferin," Mycroft explained, "that reacts with oxygen in their abdomen, causing them to glow."

"Oh." He gasped as the glowworm's light began to blink on and off. "Why is it doing _that_?"

"It's sending a message, to attract a mate. Kind of like Morse code."

"What's it saying?" Sherlock whispered excitedly.

Mycroft grinned, ruffling his wild mop. "I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U."

:o:o:o:


	7. Track 7

**January 12, 2012**

**_Twenty-four _by Switchfoot, 4:52 **(Sherlock)

_Twenty-four. _Sherlock notices John left. He closes his mouth and resumes his sonata.

_Twenty-one. _Sherlock becomes irritated with John's absence. He sends him an angry text. _Where the hell are you? SH_

_Twenty. _To Lestrade: _Have you heard from John? SH_

_Seventeen. _Sherlock paces the sidewalk as Lestrade watches. His eyes are wild, his gestures dramatic as he tries to remember John's words.

_Fourteen. _To Sherlock: _At Chiltern. Hostage. Plz com_

_Thirteen. _Sherlock finds Chiltern through John's GPS phone.

_Twelve. _Sherlock singlehandedly disarms Jack Woodley and rescues hysterical Violet and unconscious John.

_One. _Sherlock peeks into John's bedroom and sighs. He's still there.

:o:o:o:

**_The Lazy Song _by Bruno Mars, 3:11 **(John)

"Bored. Bored. Booored."

Slamming his mug on the desk, John turned to glare at his flatmate. "Then why don't you get up and do something?" he growled.

Sherlock lazily rolled his head and glowered beneath hooded lids. "What is there to do?" he moaned. "London is perfectly peaceful. It's perfectly _wretched_."

John rolled his eyes. "You could always go commit crimes yourself. _Don't_," he added when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Sherlock glancing up with interest. He flopped into the sofa again.

"You're no fun," he muttered. Shaking his head, John chucked a pillow at him.

:o:o:o:


	8. Track 8

**January 13, 2012**

**_What About Us? _by John Barrowman, 3:34 **(Sherlock)

Irene lounges on the sofa, clothed only in his blue silk dressing gown. Her hair is loose, her face startlingly nude without make-up. She asks about Coventry. _Is it nice?_

She starts being indelicate, but he can't focus on her words as she climbs off the sofa and saunters toward him, kneeling beside his chair and gently taking his hand.

A thousand volts spin out from the point of contact. He banters with her as he slides his fingers to her wrist. Elevated pulse. He whispers, and her pupils dilate. Anticipated pleasure.

_So this is love? _Strangely, he feels nothing.

:o:o:o:

**_Out of My League _by Stephen Speaks **(Molly)

Molly sighs as she doodles first his name, then hers, encircled by tiny hearts. _Molly Holmes, _she writes.

She wonders if Sherlock has ever been in love. He's certainly never shared, if he has. Mike is the only one he speaks civilly to, besides herself, so she doubts it.

Her mind drifts to his face and she imagines toying with his ebony curls, tracing the lines of his cheekbones and his long, graceful neck, finally deciphering what color his eyes are (blue, green, or gray, depending on the lighting).

The coffee maker dings, and she spills creamer all over her doodle.

:o:o:o:


	9. Track 9

**January 14, 2012**

**_Champagne _by Sugarcult, 2:57 **(Sherlock)

His hands shake as he tries to tie the shoelace around his left bicep. His fingers slip, fumble, and he has to grab one end in his teeth to pull it tight.

It takes too long to fill the syringe. He's grinding ₤5000 teeth together as he extracts the ₤200 drug from the little vial. His hands are jittery. He misses twice.

He inserts the needle in his arm and quickly, gently, depresses the plunger. Relief is almost instantaneous, and his eyes focus and he can see again. He counts the dots in the soft juncture of his elbow. Forty-three.

:o:o:o:

**_Painting Flowers _by All Time Low, 3:27 **(Irene)

How could she argue with those cheekbones? How could she fight against that sultry voice, that lithe body she just wanted to mold against her own? Can anyone really blame her for falling for the arrogant, impressive, oddly charming little brother of the Iceman?

So Irene made it a test. If he could decipher her true feelings, then he could unlock the phone.

But he mocks her. _This is your heart, _he says, _and you should never let it rule your head. _She says nothing. She'd flashed her hand. And now he's holding her heart.

I AM S-H-E-R LOCKED.

But he doesn't want it.

:o:o:o:

**_Too Much to Ask _by Avril Lavigne, 3:45 **(John)

John opens the door. The flat is dark, and empty. There is no screechy violin, no clicking keyboard, no latent cigarette smoke, no blaring telly or manic baritone.

He turns on the light. The skull and riding crop are collecting dust. A dressing gown is thrown haphazardly across the sofa. John sees the mirror, the actual glassy surface because there's nothing taped over it. He sees the skull print and his own tired, world-weary eyes.

He hears something—a footstep?—and he turns, his mouth already forming the words. "Sherlock, I…"

But he's mistaken. There's no one there. He's alone.

:o:o:o:

**_Cardboard Castles _by Diana DeGarmo, 3:39 **(Anthea)

Once, she had everything she ever wanted. Once, the entire world seemed to crowd outside her window, offering her anything she liked.

And then that beautiful dream ended.

Mycroft found her in a department store. She sold him a navy umbrella with coal-black pinstripes and a touch of gold on the silver handle. He looked in her eyes, her hollow, empty eyes, and smiled kindly at her.

"Would you like to go for coffee?" he said.

"Right now?" she asked.

"Unless you're busy."

She glanced around—at the polished counter, the boring tiles, the bland walls—and shook her head. "Not at all."

:o:o:o:

**_All You Really Need is Love _by Brad Paisley, 2:45 **(Mike)

_They look rather nice together,_ Mike thinks. He's passing through the cafeteria—just stopping by for a bagel on his way to lecture—when he sees them sitting at a table near a window.

There is a petite, brown-haired woman drowning in a lab coat and loose trousers. Molly Hooper—a nice girl, friendly and bright. She's sitting across from a pale, dark-haired man in an expensively tailored suit. They're an odd couple, little mousey Molly and her lanky companion. Couldn't be more different.

Then the man speaks, and they both giggle like schoolchildren. Mike grins. _Good for you, Molly._

:o:o:o:


	10. Track 10

**January 15, 2012**

**_Face Down _by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, 3:14 **(Mrs. Hudson)

She doesn't say goodbye when he leaves. Instead, she curls up on the sofa with a nice hot cuppa and loses herself in _Love, Actually. _

Sherlock drops by sometime after twelve. She's pleased to see him, even more so when she realizes he's sober. He _has _taken to smoking, though, and he lights up as he paws through her fridge. She smiles and lets him.

After he's consumed enough to feed ten men, chattering all the while, he examines her. He ices the bruises and slaps a Band-Aid to her cheek, where her husband's ring cut her. And she cries.

:o:o:o:

**_We Are _by Ana Johnsson, 3:55 **(Sally)

Sally can't look at the body. The face has been reduced to a bloody pulp, obviously caused by the sticky tire iron lying nearby. The corpse's clothes are ripped and torn, and more bruises peep out between the shreds of cloth. Glimmering on her wrist is a charm bracelet.

At one time, this corpse had been a pretty young woman named Marcella. She had a steady job and a family who loved her. Yet she had thrown all that away on a smooth-talking misogynist.

Sally wants to retch. She wants to cry and scream and pretend this is just a horrific nightmare. But it's not.

:o:o:o:

**_First Date _by Blink-182, 2:46 **(Sarah)

Well, that was probably the strangest date she had _ever _been on. And that was counting the surfing Californian and the magician who made his pants disappear.

John was a sweet guy, he really was. And taking her to that Chinese circus was both original and romantic. So what if his flatmate tagged along? Sherlock was an interesting bloke.

It became considerably less fun when she was kidnapped and had a gigantic crossbow aimed at her head. But it was… different.

And when John took her home, he lingered on the front step. He squeezed her hand and apologized. And she kissed him.

:o:o:o:

**_Somewhere Out There _by Linda Ronstadt & James Ingram, 4:02 **(Sherlock and John)

He heard Mrs. Hudson's light footsteps as she padded forward and draped something soft across his shoulders. Sherlock's dressing gown, he realized.

John pulled the blue silk close as he stared out the window. Even in town, there were stars. He wondered if, wherever Sherlock was, he could see them too.

:o:

Sherlock sprawled across the damp grass and glanced upward. The stars were rather pretty tonight. He only knew a handful of constellations, all of them obscure. John would laugh at that.

_John._ This was for his own good, Sherlock knew that. And yet he apologized to the stars.

"I'm sorry, John."

:o:o:o:

**_Bleed Red _by Ronnie Dunn, 3:46 **(Lestrade)

Sometimes it felt like he was wasting his time. No matter what he did, there would always be criminals and injustice and another body to find. Sometimes Lestrade didn't want to open his eyes in the morning.

And then he met Sherlock Holmes. _Here_ was a troubled kid, with a whole slew of problems. Sometimes Lestrade thought he was a lost cause, but he kept trying anyway.

Sometimes Lestrade wonders if he failed. He stopped the drugs, but he couldn't teach Sherlock modesty or humility. Or manners. He can't mend the bridge between him and Mycroft. But he keeps trying.

:o:o:o:

**_Into Your Arms _by The Maine, 3:59 **(Sarah)

Sarah sits at the table with John, wearing her LBD—which is reserved for only the most special occasions and most special men—and she laughs when he tells her about his latest adventure with Sherlock. He offers more wine and she gladly accepts.

And then the doors open and in sweeps Sherlock Holmes, and the magic ends. He taps John's shoulder and says something about the Hunter case. John immediately stands and throws a hasty apology over his shoulder as he follows Sherlock out the door.

Sarah sits at the table, alone, and realizes John will never choose her.

:o:o:o:

**_Photograph _by Nickelback, 4:19 **(Mycroft)

Once a year, Mycroft allows himself to get drunk enough to dig out all the old family albums. He'll sink to the carpet with his glass and recline against the bedpost, letting his fingertips ghost across the old Polaroids.

There's Sherlock on his first birthday. There's icing in his hair and pieces of yellow cake cling to his fingers. There's Easter, and Sherlock is splattered with colored dye. Mycroft shakes his head. Sherlock was always covered in something.

"Congratulations on another year," he murmurs and toasts the air. The clock strikes midnight, and Sherlock ages one more year. Now it's January 7.

:o:o:o:


	11. Track 11

**January 16, 2012 **_(the day I watched 'The Reichenbach Fall')_

**_Run _by Snow Patrol, 5:56 **(Sherlock)

There is nothing else to do. He dials the number. He calls John.

He realizes, as they're talking, that there are a million things he wants to say. _I was lonely, John. I was so alone and I didn't realize it until I met you. Now I talk to you even when you leave. And I don't know why you decided to trust _me, _of all people. I don't know why you're still on my side when the entire world is against me. And I don't care about any of it… except that it hurts you._

Instead, he lies. And he says, "Goodbye, John." And he falls.

:o:o:o:


	12. Track 12

**January 17, 2012**

**_Stay _by Safety Suit, 4:25 **(John)

He can't believe what Sherlock's saying. It's a lie. He knows it. Sherlock's words flash through his mind: _When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable it might seem, must be true. _Like in Devon, his eyes and ears are lying to him. Because this can't be happening.

He wants to ask why he's doing this. Because it hurts too much. He can hear Sherlock's voice break over the line, and his heart breaks with it. Why can't he just _shut up_?

"No. Don't." It's the closest he'll come to begging. The phone falls. Sherlock leans forward, and John's world stops.

:o:o:o:

**_Campfire _by Alan Menken, 3:24 **(Molly)

"You're wrong, you know." Molly jumps about a mile in the air as she whirls around and sees Sherlock standing in the shadows. "You do count," he continues. "You've always counted, and I've always trusted you. But you were right." He looks at her. "I'm not okay."

Anxiety bubbles in her stomach. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Molly," he murmurs, "I think I'm going to die."

She doesn't know why he still thinks he needs to ask. Her answer will never change. So when he asks if she'd help him, even if he's a fraud, the answer comes so effortlessly. "What do you need?"

:o:o:o:


	13. Track 13

**January 20, 2012**

**_Even Angels Fall _by Jessica Riddle, 3:23 **(John)

John stared at him. "It's okay, you know," he said, "not solving the case. Being puzzled, being mistaken—"

Sherlock sighed loudly and slammed his hands on the desk. "_God, _you're an idiot sometimes," he snarled.

Resisting the urge to punch his flatmate and storm out of the room, John exhaled quietly. "Yeah, well, we can't all be you, can we?" When Sherlock remained silent, he glanced at the door and sighed. "It just means you're human, Sherlock. Even angels fall sometimes."

"Yes, but I'm not one of them."

John grimaced. "Did you ever think that might be the problem?"

:o:o:o:

**_Someday _by Nickelback, 3:28 **(John)

His fingers slide against the cool onyx stone, careful not to step on the flowers. He smells freshly dug earth and the bouquets' overwhelming perfume and the faint, imaginary stench of death. A sob wells in his throat, choking him until he exhales and turns away.

Something within him breaks suddenly and he looks back at the shining white letters etched in the black stone. He asks for a miracle because that's what he lived for, proving people wrong.

"Don't be… dead." He's crying now, openly, for the first time since that awful day. "Would you do that, just for me?" _Please?_

:o:o:o:

**_In Another Life _by Ashlee Simpson, 3:47 **(Sherlock)

Sherlock passes a petite young woman with mousy hair, drowning in clothes that are far too big for her tiny frame. She avoids his eyes.

Sherlock passes an older man, his silver hair mussed where he keeps touching it, a piece of metal glinting at his belt. He sighs.

Sherlock passes a beautiful woman, with chocolate hair and blood-red lipstick, her blue dress shimmering in the sunlight. She blows him a kiss.

Sherlock passes a man with cropped hair, a severe limp in his right leg, the hands of a doctor and the eyes of a soldier. Sherlock looks twice.

:o:o:o:

**_This Ain't Goodbye _by Train, 4:23 **(Everyone)

Irene sees his death on the news. Tears smudge her mascara as she stubs out her cigarette.

Lestrade leaves early, avoiding Sally's desk, and flops on his sofa. He feels like a failure.

Mycroft reads _The Sun. _He avoids the article, dabs at his eyes with a handkerchief.

Mrs. Hudson packs up his belongings alone. She nicks her foot on the skull and sits and cries for two hours. It doesn't help.

John keeps seeing blood pooling on the sidewalk, jet and scarlet streaking alabaster features. He can't sleep anymore, and wakes up crying.

Molly cradles a postcard. She doesn't cry.

:o:o:o:

**_Crush _by Mandy Moore, 3:42 **(Molly)

He stares at her with his mesmerizing, wintergreen eyes. She could gaze into them forever if he'd let her.

"Thank you, Molly." He's smiling ever so softly at her. With his ginger hair and sideburns and sweatshirt stamped with Beckham's faded number, he looks like a totally different person.

She shrugs as her cheeks grow hot. "It was nothing."

He shakes his head. "How can I make it up to you?"

She starts to say there's no need, but pauses. "Would you like to go for coffee? Not now, obviously," she adds, blushing harder, "but… when you…"

"Yes." His smile broadens. "I would."

:o:o:o:

**_When I'm Gone _by Eminem, 4:41 **(Mycroft)

Sherlock is a mess. His clothes are crooked, his hair a mass of black, knotted curls, his round face streaked with tears. Anger and sadness fight for dominance in his clear green eyes.

Mycroft smiles gently, kneeling to embrace him. "I'll be back before you know it," he whispers.

Four years becomes seven. Sherlock grows tall and angular. The t-shirt hangs off his slender frame. The clear green eyes are clouded and distant. He snarls when he speaks.

His arm is raw with punctures. He says Mycroft was supposed to protect him, but he chose Oxford instead.

"Mummy cries because of you."

:o:o:o:


	14. Track 14

**January 21, 2012**

**_Heaven's Light _by Tom Hulce, 1:59 **(Molly)

When Molly met Sherlock Holmes, she swore she heard a chorus of angels and saw a halo of light encircling the inky mass of curls she longed to thread her fingers through (of course, the chorus was a colleague's ringtone and the halo a faulty light bulb) He was perfection bundled into a nice, neat, knee-buckingly gorgeous package.

Of course, this was before Jim being gay. And that disastrous party on Christmas. Before he smashed her heart into a million pieces and danced on the bloody bits.

Because who was she kidding, right? Sherlock was beautiful, and she simply… wasn't.

:o:o:o:

**_That's What She Said _by The Friday Night Boys, 3:10 **(Irene)

She is untouchable. No one ever gets to her. Her heart is safe in its gilded cage, like a lovely nightingale. Visible, but out of reach.

Except for Sherlock. Oh, he rattled the cage like all the others, rapping the bars like a curious, obnoxious child, but he persisted long after the others stopped.

And, somehow, he found the key. He slid it effortlessly into the lock and her little nightingale heart hopped into his hand, and she hadn't noticed.

That's how she devised her password; it was too tempting a setup. She wonders if he can find the key a second time.

:o:o:o:

**_Girl Next Door _by Saving Jane, 3:23 **(Molly)

Molly hates this body on the slab. Even with a bashed-up face, she can tell she was once stunningly beautiful. It's not fair to be jealous of a corpse, but Sherlock's careless remarks are still ringing in her ears.

When Sherlock and his brother come in to identify it, she can't bear to look at him. It hurts more than usual because her heart is still in tatters. He's still apologetic though, which helps.

Then he has to go and ruin it. He asks to see the woman's naked body, and that's enough for him to recognize her.

Molly hates this body on the slab.

:o:o:o:

**_Just to Get High _by Nickelback, 4:02 **(Lestrade)

It hurt him. It actually caused Lestrade physical pain, usually in his chest or head, every time he watched Sherlock stumble up to another crime scene coked out of his skull. Even a comatose patient could see Sherlock was the most brilliant man in England, and even a five-year-old could see he was throwing away that peerless mind on, of all things, drugs.

But he continues to sit in the hard wooden chair beside the sofa, sifting his fingers through Sherlock's sweat-soaked hair. "C-cold," he stutters.

"Yeah, I know," Lestrade says. "Try and sleep, okay?" He wishes everything was that easy.

:o:o:o:


	15. Track 15

**January 22, 2012**

**_How to Save a Life _by The Fray, 4:25 **(Mrs. Hudson)

She invites him for dinner because his suit hangs off his skinny frame like a sheet. She takes him to the Chinese place just down the street. "You can always tell good Chinese from the bottom third of the door handle," he says. She smiles, asks him how he knows because he's dying to explain.

:o:

She invites him for dinner because they're both dying of loneliness. The flat is unbearably quiet without his rampant pacing, the rows and the violin screeching at three in the morning. They drink tea in silence.

"I miss him," he says suddenly, sadly. She nods.

:o:o:o:

**_One Year, Six Months _by Yellowcard, 3:29 **(John)

It's the first time he's made one cup instead of two, and John is absurdly proud of that simple feat. He wanders back into the sitting room and turns on the telly. It's the evening news on BBC, which he's started watching again even though they gave that rather callous report a year ago. What did Sherlock call news? _War, famine, pestilence, and football results. _He smiles.

It's easier to think about Sherlock. It still hurts of course, but less now. Still, he can't stop himself from pulling out his phone and typing the same message again.

_Are you there?_

:o:o:o:


	16. Track 16

**January 30, 2012 **_(my most productive day!)_

**_Tied Together With a Smile _by Taylor Swift, 4:11 **(Lestrade)

John smiles at him when he opens the door, but to Lestrade it seems forced. "Hey Greg, c'mon in," he says brightly, opening the door wider.

"How you been?" he asks as John bustles in the kitchen, pushing aside neglected chemical equipment to clear a space for the kettle.

"Great. Just… just great." He starts grabbing mugs once it dings. "One sugar, right?" Lestrade nods and takes the proffered mug.

He grimaces, and his heart aches. "John…" He gestures helplessly at the third mug, the one that's extra now.

"Fourth time this week," John mumbles, pouring the tea down the sink.

:o:o:o:

**_Princes and Frogs _by Superchick, 3:08 **(Sally)

"I hate men," Sally grumbled.

Lestrade gave her a funny look. "Why's that?" he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

"'Cause they're all arrogant bastards."

He tilted his head. "Are we talking about men or are we talking about Sherlock?"

She glared at the gouged bar, digging her fingernail into Mark's phone number and the heart encircling Jenni's name. "Does it matter?" She sighed. "He makes us look like idiots."

Lestrade sighed back. "Yeah, well… that's Sherlock, I guess." He reached over and patted her shoulder. "You _know_ you're a good cop, dontcha Donovan?"

She grimaced. "So are you."

:o:o:o:

**_Bless the Broken Road _by Rascal Flatts, 3:57 **(Sherlock and John)

Sherlock never appreciated his friendship with John more than when he was stuck on his own again. He missed listening to John laugh at the telly. And sharing popcorn while they watched _Doctor Who. _And drinking tea on Sunday mornings. He missed the utter domesticity of it all. He no longer liked being alone.

:o:

John never appreciated his friendship with Sherlock more than after he was gone. He missed listening to Sherlock compose violin concertos on the fly. And arguing about who was the best Doctor. And watching him become _good._ It wasn't about the adrenaline. He just missed Sherlock.

:o:o:o:

**_Moonlight Serenade _by Klaus Badelt, 2:09 **(Sherlock)

"I suppose I should be thanking you," _the_ woman said, unwinding the scarf and letting her chocolate curls spill to her shoulders. "Although I _was _just fine on my own."

Sherlock snorted. "Clearly. So the execution was just part of your plan?"

She shrugged. "I would've gone out with a bang. A single text would've been my legacy. However…" He could hear her dainty feet tiptoe across the carpet, felt her arms slip around his waist. "This is a nice alternative," she whispered.

"To being dead?"

"Mm." She tilted his head so he could see her dark, glittering eyes. "To being alone."

:o:o:o:

**_Breathe _by Taylor Swift, 4:25 **(John)

2 AM. John blinks, but he's still not tired. Kicking off the sheet, he stumbles down the stairs to the sitting room. His fingers glance over the skull, the dusty mantel, the abandoned violin. But he doesn't linger, and passes through the kitchen to another room.

The bed is unmade. Like Sherlock was so restless or excited he couldn't be bothered to make it. John sinks into the mattress, but jumps up again. It's too close, too claustrophobic, and he struggles to breathe. He feels like a failure, standing in the dark alone.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry…"

:o:o:o:

**_Bleed _by Hot Chelle Rae, 3:53 **(Sherlock)

His fingers hover over the keyboard. He's lost track of how many times he's sat here and composed this same message. It always starts out the same.

_Dear John,_

_I'm not dead. _

Then it varies. Sometimes he's consumed with anxiety, and bitterly mocks John's determination to make him go cold turkey. Sometimes he's overwhelmed with guilt and sadness, and misses John's voice. Sometimes he's overcome with confusion, when he turns to tell John a story or invite him along and he's not there. Sometimes he's filled with fury at John's absence.

It always ends the same.

_Please forgive me._

And then he deletes it.

:o:o:o:

**_The Older I Get _by Skillet, 3:36 **(Mycroft)

On the surface, Sherlock's suicide was a great nuisance. There was the funeral to plan, reporters to avoid, reputations to salvage. But inwardly he was miserable. Sherlock _was _his brother, after all. He still remembered the first day he'd held that tiny, dark-haired baby in his arms.

He was sitting in his chair, the wine swirling in his glass. "You've put on weight," said a voice he never believed he'd hear again. "I almost didn't recognize you."

He turned to see a gaunt young man with wild curls leaning in the doorway. "Sherlock," he breathed.

His little brother grinned. "Hello, Mycroft."

:o:o:o:

**_Here We Go Again _by Demi Lovato, 3:47 **(Molly)

"He's horrid," Molly growls. "He's either criticizing my intelligence or my appearance." She sighs. "And the one time, the _one time, _I had the nerve to ask him to coffee, he just… blows me off!"

Now she straightens her spine. "Well, I'm over him now. The Christmas party settled it." She nods and picks him up. "I'm stronger for it, don't you think Toby?" The cat purrs against her throat.

The doorbell buzzes and suddenly _he's _standing there, looking tall and sharp and gorgeous, holding a harpoon. "Molly," he says, "I need your assistance."

And she melts all over again.

:o:o:o:

**_Genie in a Bottle _by Christina Aguilera, 3:37 **(Anthea)

John climbed into the car, sighing loudly. "Is it really that big a deal for Mycroft to just _call _me?" he said. "Because I'd actually prefer that, you know."

She smirked. "I do."

He sighed again, leaning into the plush leather. "So… how've you been?"

She shrugged, sent off another message. "Great." She tilted her head up. "You?"

"Peachy," he replied. A beat of silence. "Reconsider my offer yet?"

She finally tore her eyes from her Blackberry. "Which one?"

"The one where I take you to dinner."

She smiled as the car stopped outside the Diogenes Club. "Maybe next time."

:o:o:o:

**_Daddy's Little Girl _by Frankie J, 4:16 **(Molly)

Molly loved her father. He was smart and funny and restless—Sherlock reminded her of him. So she was devastated when Mum called and tearfully informed her that Dad was dying.

Then he was constantly cheerful, making jokes and refusing to let his girls cry. But she saw him once, sitting alone in her parents' room. He was holding an old family photo. He was crying.

Molly understood death, but she never quite got the living. So she tiptoed into the room and hugged her father, kissed his cheek and promised it would be all right.

Three weeks later... he died.

:o:o:o:

**_Just A Dream _by Carrie Underwood, 4:45 **(Mrs. Hudson)

She sat on a bench outside the courthouse, watching the pigeons flutter across the concrete. Sherlock came up and flopped down beside her. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She shrugged. "It feels like a dream," she said quietly. "I've been a housewife for so long." She glanced up at him. "What am I supposed to do now?"

He sighed, ran a hand through his darkly gleaming curls. "Go back to London. Move on with your life." He looked at her. "You have one now."

She smiled gently, caught his waist in a one-armed hug and squeezed. "Thanks to you."

:o:o:o:

**_Shakin' Hands _by Nickelback, 3:40 **(Irene)

Irene had long ago learned to trust her instinct when it came to new faces. When the hair rose on the back of her neck and her stomach plummeted to her black pumps, she instantly recoiled. Something was decidedly _off _with Jim Moriarty.

"Mind if I have a look?" he crooned, extending his hand for her phone.

She smiled and tightened her grip. "I'd rather not."

He shrugged. "I could just take it from you."

"But you won't." She tilted her head demurely. "What fun would that be?"

He grinned coldly. "I like you, Miss Adler."

The feeling was _not _mutual.

:o:o:o:

**_Every Day _by Rascal Flatts, 4:09 **(Sherlock)

Sherlock invited John to live with him because he couldn't afford the rent and wouldn't mind the company.

Sherlock asked John to tag along because he knew John missed the war and would make a useful assistant.

He didn't demand John follow him to the abandoned college. He didn't ask him to shoot the murderous cabbie, to inadvertently stop him from possibly killing himself.

He didn't order John to take away the cigarettes. Or help sort through a thousand books. Or let him keep body parts in the fridge.

Sherlock didn't ask John to stay. But... he's glad he did.

:o:o:o:


	17. Track 17

**January 31, 2012**

**_Only Hope _by Switchfoot, 4:14 **(John)

He didn't know what to make of this eerily tall, thin man with a coat like a vampire's cloak. The husky voice that didn't match the surprisingly youthful face. The quick, cutting tongue that tore you to pieces before you could register what was happening. Sherlock Holmes _was_ odd, no doubt about that.

Yet he couldn't find it within himself to walk away. It should've been easy to say no to this strange man who resembled a cadaver. But Sherlock promised danger. Excitement. A life where _things happened to him_. He was his only hope for sanity. So he took it.

:o:o:o:


	18. Track 18

**February 10, 2012**

**_I Miss You _by Blink-182, 3:47 **(Everyone)

"_If I could say just one thing to Sherlock Holmes, it would be…"_

"I enjoyed playing the game. Even if you beat me."

"I'm sorry. I was never a very good brother to you, was I?"

"You were such a nice boy. Thank you for helping me."

"I should hate you. And God knows I'm probably mad, but… I still believe in you."

"Please, there's just one more thing, one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be… dead. Would you do that, just for me?"

"Thank you."

"Thank you."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Glad I could help."

:o:o:o:


	19. Track 19

**February 12, 2012**

**_Kryptonite _by 3 Doors Down, 3:54 **(Sherlock)

_No one's that clever_, they whisper behind open hands. _It must be a trick. It can't be true._

He thought he was past all that, past the disbelief and the skepticism, but apparently not. Because it easily blooms in their eyes and dances across their tongues after only a little coaxing.

He's not surprised when Sally turns on him, and he already knew Anderson was an idiot.

Lestrade wavered. He thought he was above the rumors his team liked to spread, but he _is _only human.

Not John, though. He stood firm, even as their world crumbled all around them.

:o:o:o:


	20. Track 20

**February 13, 2012**

**_Reflection _by Christina Aguilera, 3:34 **(Molly)

Sherlock strides into the morgue again, trampling over her heart in the process. He can't see—or is pointedly ignoring—all the signs of her affection. The corpses. The late nights. Cup after cup of black coffee, two sugars. It doesn't matter what she does; he looks straight through her anyway.

:o:

She watches him out of the corner of her eye and knows immediately that something's off. Worry lines crease his flawless forehead, the corners of his lips turn down, and his eyes continually dart across the lab. Molly thinks she finally understands him, just a little.

He's hiding too.

:o:o:o:

**_Her Diamonds _by Rob Thomas, 4:44 **(Mrs. Hudson)

Martha always regarded it as a blessing the day she met Sherlock Holmes. He'd never lay a hand on her.

She was sitting out on the porch steps when he tromped out to join her, sinking down like a black swan. She was studying the moon and wondering if it really _was _brighter out here in Florida when he spoke. "It's healing well." He gestured at her eye.

She laughed, a poor, gasping sound. "Funny how the night blinds you, isn't it?"

He sighed and squeezed her hand, and the tears escaped from her swollen eye before she could stop them.

:o:o:o:

**_Slipping _by Neil Patrick Harris, 2:00 **(Moriarty)

St. Bart's rooftop. It's actually more fitting than he expected, almost as fitting as if he were going to fling darling Sherlock off the Reichenbach Falls itself. He's pleasantly surprised Sherlock was the one to suggest it.

It's so much _fun _to watch Sherlock's face twist and contort in pained confusion, especially when he points out he's much too clever for his own good. A string of computer code? _Really?_ It's such a shame he's turned out to be so _ordinary. _Sherlock Holmes was just a fairy tale—too good to be true.

All the better to watch him fall.

:o:o:o:

**_Last Christmas _by Ashley Tisdale, 3:52 **(Everyone)

Mrs. Hudson gave hers to her husband. He thanked her by being awful.

Lestrade gave his to his wife. She thanked him by sleeping with the PE teacher.

Clara gave hers to Harry. She drowned it in booze.

Sarah gave hers to John. He forgot it when he raced out the door.

Mycroft kept his under wraps. Caring isn't an advantage, he warned his impetuous brother.

Molly tried first, then Irene, to give hers to Sherlock. He mocked them both.

Moriarty burned his.

John's started beating again after he met Sherlock.

Sherlock thought he didn't have one. He was wrong.

:o:o:o:

**_Follow _by Breaking Benjamin, 3:17 **(John)

It's not as bad as he initially thought. John parts the threads of shredded denim to inspect the hole. Perfectly clean; the bullet passed straight through.

Suddenly Sherlock's kneeling beside him, his quicksilver eyes sparking with panic. "Are you all right?" he asks.

His chest swells. It's nice to watch Sherlock worry over him, worth more than a hundred wounds to watch that iron mask crack for a minute. "It's not serious, Sherlock," he explains quietly.

"I told you not to follow me, idiot," he snaps back.

John shrugs and presses Sherlock's hands against the hole. "Have I ever done anything else?"

:o:o:o:


	21. Track 21

**February 22, 2012**

**_Swing Life Away _by Rise Against, 3:18 **(Sherlock and John)

Green, rolling hills spotted with grazing sheep. Birds twittering in the large, crooked trees with their long, spindly arms. The nearest village a tiny black dot on the horizon, which will glow with twinkling yellow lights at dusk.

Sherlock looks thirty again as his face lights up. "It's perfect."

:o:

He'll miss London, he realizes while he's packing, marking boxes, "To Sussex." But he doesn't regret it.

Sherlock is practically giddy when the sputtering old pickup stops in the gravel drive. He unloads it while John's getting out.

"Want to see my bees?" he asks seriously.

John laughs. "Oh God, yes."

:o:o:o:


	22. Track 22

**February 23, 2012**

**_She Takes Me High _by We the Kings, 4:06 **(John)

John is struck speechless when he meets her. He even forgets his name for a moment. "John, name is my Hi." Sherlock rolls his eyes and huffs. But Mary Morstan giggles and takes his hand.

:o:

Mary is so lovely, it makes his head hurt. She is so kind, it makes his chest ache. It's bad when she's around, but worse when she isn't. John thinks he's in love. _Real _love. Like he'll remember whether she has a dog or not. Sherlock rolls his eyes.

:o:

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes, yes, a thousand times _yes_!" And John feels like he's flying.

:o:o:o:


	23. Track 23

**February 28, 2012**

**_Happy Ending _from Ninja Clash in the Land of Snow, 2:10 **(John)

It's a small affair, the wedding. There's Harry, sober and rolling her eyes. There's Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade.

Mary is radiant as she glides down the aisle, like an angel descended from above. He takes her hands, beaming, says, "I do." Kisses the love of his life.

They dash down the aisle together, laughing at nothing at all, but he glances back. Sherlock is standing at the altar beside bridesmaid Molly, trim and proper in his black suit. He's clapping with everyone else. And he's smiling—a real, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. And that makes John's wedding perfect.

:o:o:o:


	24. Track 24

**February 29, 2012** _(Happy Leap Day!)_

**_Broken Man _by Boys Like Girls, 3:32 **(Sherlock)

He hadn't meant to. He really hadn't. It was just a fact, all statements of fact.

Seb's face bloomed in color till he looked like a ripe tomato as half the boys jeered and the others stood, slack-jawed. He felt heat start to rise in his own cheeks and his tongue form the words 'I'm sorry' when Seb raised his head and glared at him.

"_Freak,_" he snarled. "Why don't you mind your own goddamn business?"

He blanched, but quickly colored with anger. "Good luck passing calculus," he hissed, calmly taking his mashed potatoes and dumping them over Seb's head.

:o:o:o:


End file.
